


Divine Intervention

by MelancholyAndBlithe



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Amnesia, Attempt at Humor, Attempt at angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I'm Bad At Titles, Mara - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Temporary Amnesia, Thieves Guild, Ulfric joining the Thieves Guild, divine intervention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelancholyAndBlithe/pseuds/MelancholyAndBlithe
Summary: Lady Mara is regarded as the matron deity of compassion and love in Tamriel. Yet Skyrim is lacking in it as of late. Deciding to take more action, she calls upon the help of two of her children.A certain jarl presiding in Windhelm,and a Bosmer thief causing mischief from the shadows.At a glance, these two don't seem very fit for bringing Mara's love to a war torn province.And yet, love has a funny way of changing things.





	1. -Prologue-

It was in the middle of the night when Ulfric finally made his way to his quarters, prepared to disrobe for the night for sleep. The Palace of Kings was quiet this time of night, the usual din of soldiers, guards, and his advisers having died down long ago in favor of the owners of said noises gaining some shut eye. The room was cold, as per usual and the furs on his bed were inviting. He let out a long suffering sigh, shrugging off his armor and cloak. His bones and aching muscles, past their prime had seemed to breathe out their own sighs of relief as soon as he hit the plush surface.

His mind wandered a bit, as was normal for him before he got any sleep whatsoever. That day had been spent fretting over a Stormcloak patrol that had been ambushed by Imperial soldiers around Whiterun. He was worried that Balgruuf had been swayed to join the Empire's cause. He scoffed, thinking about it. The Empire's cause was a dead one. The mighty beast that the Empire used to be was but a weary shell of its former glory, gnarled and ragged with being stripped of much of the soldiers, honesty, and loyalty it once had with Tamriel. If Ulfric had his way, his people wouldn't be subject to such a pitiful ruling party any longer. Skyrim was a fierce land, and it deserved a fierce leader. Fair. Determined. One that loved her people.

In the midst of his thinking, a bright light shone to him from behind his eyelids. His eyes shot open but the light was still there, blinding him. He growled, holding up his forearm to shield him from the light. Sitting upright, the light followed him.

"What is this?" He demanded. If someone else was in there with him, they were going to pay for trespassing.

"Do not be angry, my child." A soothing, womanly voice rang out in his ears. It reminded him of his mother before he went to live with the Greybeards. So comforting. Like warm honey. "I simply have something I must ask of you." He knew better, and yet he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Mother?" His voice was barely registered above a whisper as his forearm slowly dropped. The light was much better to look at now. A low chuckle resounded in his ears and his heart sank. Of course not.

"Not quite, my child. Skyrim has been enveloped in a shroud of hate and bloodshed for too long. It is crippled by a lack of compassion and warmth. I need help restoring that, even if only a little." At this, he scoffed.

"Easier said than done. I'm a man of war, not peace. Perhaps you should look somewhere else." He retorted, his eyes squinting against the shimmering luminescence in the quarters.

"You'd be surprised of what you're capable of, my dear. All I ask for now is this; Go to Ivarstead. There will be someone there who can help you. Do that, and we'll see if what you say is true." Ulfric worried his lip between his teeth. What would he do? His mind was torn between heeding this stranger's words and staying put. He leaned forwards, his elbow propped up on his knee, face hardened as he asked:

"Who are you?"

\----

The wilderness of Skyrim tested the mettle of even seasoned warriors. Bears could tear you apart, giants could send you flying to Aetherius and if those didn't kill you, Spriggans, vampires, or even the weather were all fairly hard to overcome as well. Vylie clutched at her black fur trimmed cloak, draped over her like a secure blanket. Her Guild cuirass moved easily with her form as she crept through the snow, attempting to avoid being seen by a sabre cat. She had already narrowly avoided being caught and thrown behind bars back in Windhelm. Just thinking about it was embarrassing. She was next in line to lead the Thieves' Guild, gods dammit! She should've been more careful than she was. She was glad that she managed to escape though. 

Her boots sunk in the snow, careful not to make much of a crunch, lest she alert the hulking cat to her presence and be mauled for dinner. Once she was far enough away from said animal, she took off, running as fast as she could through the frozen expanse, remembering that her horse must be out here somewhere. She didn't trust the stables to take care of her horse, especially in case of situations like this. Sure enough, she found her faithful steed right where she'd left him.

He blew out a breath of greeting at her when she approached him. She smiled wryly, petting his muzzle before mounting his saddle and turning him around. A bright light caught her attention. Squinting, she weighed in her mind whether she should follow or stick to her plan and return to Riften. She had just narrowly escaped imprisonment, so perhaps this was Nocturnal's way of letting her know that tonight wasn't her lucky night. As such, she lightly kicked against her stallion's sides and urged him into a gallop. 

They rode away from Windhelm, hoping to make it to her safe haven by morning. Of course, she wasn't so lucky and had to make camp in the wilds. She found a decent place to set up camp and lit a fire. Warming her hands, she sat down and let out a weary sigh. She shrugged off her quiver, arrows jostling within, and leaned her head back to rest against a boulder. Her horse began to snort and make nervous sounds. Naturally, Vylie looked to her companion before looking off in the distance, seeing that light from before. Jumping to action, Vylie grabbed her bow and an arrow from the quiver resting by her and aimed at the intruding light source. A light laugh invaded her ears and she frowned, her grip tightening on her bow.

"At ease, dear one. You needn't be afraid." The voice said. Letting out a breath, Vylie lowered her bow, scrutinizing the light.

"Who-"

"I am the goddess Mara. I have an important favor to ask of you."

\---

Ulfric left a note on his bed simply explaining he had business to take care of and he'd return shortly. Galmar or one of his guards would undoubtedly find it. He didn't care much. He just wanted to make sure people knew where he was in case he wasn't back within the next day, maybe two. He redressed in his usual attire, not bothering to find something else. Striding out to the stables, he mounted his horse and made for Ivarstead.

He rode for hours. His horse was tired. He was tired. The cold wind wore at him without his sleep. He had to face that he wasn't what he used to be. Not exactly an old man, but not in the prime of youth any longer. Wouldn't be long until hair started to fall out of his head, he thought to himself with a small smirk. He finally made it to the outskirts of the small village when the sun was about to begin its ascension into the sky. The expanse above was a healthy dark blue, with hardly any clouds in sight. A breeze brushed past, blowing hair away from his face, along with slightly bending various flora around him. A growl came from nearby. Ulfric's eyes followed the sound, only to settle on those of a hungry looking bear.

The animal charged at he and his horse, the latter of which panicked and reared up, Ulfric nearly losing his grip on the reins. The poor creature let out a frightened neigh before coming back to the ground and bucking Ulfric off and bolting off in a dead run away from the bear, which gave chase. Ulfric landed on the ground harshly, his face scraping against the trail, his vision blurred.

"I'm sorry." Mara's voice rang out in his head once more.

"What is this?" Ulfric demanded, his voice low as he tried to crawl forward. Just a little further and he'd be in the town line. Just a little further and he could rest there before returning back home the following day.

"She'll be here soon." She simply stated.

"Who? Who'll-" The sound of another set of horse hooves interrupted him. Coming from behind. His vision blackened at the edges.

"Rest, my dear." The voice soothed. He could almost feel a warm, ethereal hand smoothing over his hair before fading away at the nape of his neck. The horse hooves grew louder and louder before slowing down. It was all he heard before sleep overcame him.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vylie finds an unconscious Ulfric, who falls into her care. She tries to think of a way to sufficiently keep him from the public eye.

Vylie dismounted her horse close to the town line of Ivarstead. There was a man lying on the road. She cringed, opting to jog up to him and see if he were even still alive or not. His back rose and fell with rising breaths and she sighed in relief. He was alive, thankfully. Gingerly turning him over, she discovered he had a nasty scrape and a head wound. He was unconscious and she had no idea how long he'd been there. Was this the person she was supposed to meet?

She looked up, around the town. No one else was out, save for the guards. Surely this was the person. Mara would've corrected her otherwise, right?

She studied him for a bit yet, half hoping he'd wake up, half hoping she could somehow figure out who he was just by staring at him. She had no luck with either, unfortunately. He was a handsome man of late middle age, with blond hair falling just past his shoulders. A beard that covered his chin made her scowl slightly. Beards weren't a feature she particularly cared for. One bad experience with a man back in Cyrodiil, and that was all it took for her to be turned off by beards as a whole. 

He was still warm, meaning he hadn't been there long enough for the cold of night to seep into him. Or, at the very least, he wasn't dead. His clothing was on the nicer end; Thick and fur lined, but well made. Vylie felt her fingers itch and they twitched at her side. She battled with herself, ultimately deciding it wasn't in her best interests to pickpocket a man Mara sent her to help. A near literal case of kicking someone while they were down. She scoffed to herself, picking him up to the best of her ability.

A master thief worried about the moral implications of stealing from an injured man. Surely if anyone from the Guild were there, she'd be given a firm lecture while the person themselves made quick work of the man's valuables. 

She dragged herself and him to the Vilemyr Inn up the road. The inn was welcoming. Warmth set into her immediately upon entering. The smell of smoking fish and seasoned meats with mead wafted into her nose and she inhaled deeply, appreciative of being indoors rather than out in the Skyrim cold. There were only a handful of people there, as was expected of a town as small as Ivarstead. Fire crackled in the hearth as Vylie struggled to bring herself and her new friend to the counter. The innkeeper, Wilhelm regarded them with the same healthy suspicion she'd display if she were in his shoes.

"Do you have any more beds available?" She asked and flashed him what she hoped was a winning smile. She feared, however, that it was more of something akin to a cringe the way he raised his brow and moved away ever so slightly. "I found _this_ guy here," She nodded to the man slumped over her shoulder. "on the road right outside town. Didn't feel right leaving him there." Wilhelm seemed to relax a bit at that. He studied the two of them a moment before his face blanched and his eyes widened.

"Shor's bones! How'd he get here?" Wilhelm asked, eyes trained directly on her new friend. 

"How should I know?" She replied, more a statement than a question. "Wait, do you know him?" Her eyebrows raised.

"Oh aye. I know him. I'd wager most anyone in Skyrim knows who he is." Wilhelm looked at Vylie, who tilted her head to the side curiously. He sighed, exasperated. "Except for you, apparently." He finished flatly.

"Well then, fill me in. I can take him back to wherever he's from when he's healed." She requested, shifting so the mystery man was positioned a bit differently, making the weight a bit easier to manage on her shoulder. 

"You're carrying Ulfric Stormcloak on your shoulder. Jarl of Windhelm. Leader of the rebellion." Wilhelm answered, a bit of awe in his voice. Or was it fear? The look on his face was indicative of both, honestly.

"Ah. That would explain why I didn't recognize him. I've never been to the Palace of Kings, so I've never seen his face. Know the name though." She explained. Her shoulder was pained, keeping Ulfric upright for so long. 

"I have another room available for the two of you. Free of charge." WIlhelm added, venturing from behind the counter. He helped Vylie take him to the spare room in the inn and laid him down a bit awkwardly over the meager bed, with a twinge of difficulty. The room was small, but comfortable. The room was complete with a bed, a chest, and a small table and chair, complete with a lit torch for light. Vylie rolled her shoulder and rubbed at it to alleviate the pain and numbness. Ulfric was apparently a heavy man. Heavier than he looked, even with the furs. Hulking Nord like most of the province. "If there's anything you need, let me know." Wilhelm said. Vylie thought for a moment, chewing her lip before she answered.

"Actually, it would help a lot if I had some paper and something to write with. I need to send correspondence to my family in Riften." She said. Wilhelm nodded and went to fetch her requested items. She looked to the sleeping jarl on the bed and sighed, leaning against the wall. She had no idea how long she'd be there, but if he was seriously injured, there was a large chance that he'd be out for days. If that were the case, it was only right that she'd stay with him. She wanted to properly explain what she believed happened to him. And hey, if there was a nice reward for her in the way of money or jewels, then she wouldn't complain.

She was a thief, after all. Wealth would always be her greatest love.

At any rate, she wanted to send word to the Guild that she may be gone for a while. While she was playing adult babysitter, she'd need her family to know that she'd be held up for a while. They'd be displeased, no doubt, but at least she wouldn't be leaving them in the dark. It'd be worse if she hadn't finished her job.

Wilhelm brought her a rough roll of paper, and a thin stick of charcoal. She thanked the innkeeper as he left the room. Behind her, she heard a thud. She turned to find Ulfric had fallen out of bed and was now laid out on the floor, still very much out cold. Vylie sighed, and dragged her hand down her face before she helped him back into bed. Immediately after, she began writing her correspondence.

===

Three days passed before Ulfric finally woke up late morning. Vylie sat at the table, impatiently carving a hollow out of a book she'd found in the inn. She doubted she'd need to hide something in a book of all things, but one could never be too careful. If nothing else, she could sell it to some poor sap who would actually use it if she never did. She was so preoccupied, she didn't even see or hear Ulfric stir.

"Where am I?" His baritone voice broke the silence, causing her to jump, a yelp issuing from her as she accidentally flung her knife high in the air. The blade's tip embedded in the ceiling of their room. Vylie pressed her hand to her chest as she attempted to calm her breathing. Ulfric sat up, his gaze fixed on hers. His eyes were a strong, steely blue and they bore straight into her very being. She felt a little unsettled under his scrutiny.

"You're in Ivarstead. I was waiting for you to wake up so I could take you back home." Vylie responded. Ulfric nodded once in understanding.

"And where would that be?" He asked. The knife fell down from the ceiling and found itself embedded in the table of the room instead as Vylie all but gawked at Ulfric.

"You don't remember?" She asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't know." He responded. A cold trickle of fear went through her spine.

"Do you remember your name? Who you are?" She asked carefully. There was a moment of silence between the two as his face changed. He looked deep in thought. Seconds ticked by before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, they were less intense than before.

"No." He answered.

"Ah." She responded. "Well.." She tapped her finger on the table top trying to think of something to do, what course of action to take. "Shit." She muttered under her breath. What should she do? Take him back to Windhelm? She had to tell him who he was. He deserved to know who he was. But that posed the problem of whether or not he'd believe her. And even if he did and she took him back home, how was he supposed to do his job without his memory? How was he supposed to lead his city, let alone his half of the war? He couldn't. She sighed, and raked her hand through her hair. There was no guarantee the Stormcloaks would believe her either. She could see it now.

 _'I found your leader face down on the side of the road and brought him here out of the goodness of my heart. By the way, he has no idea who he is. Hey, why are you putting me in the dungeon?'_ She shook her head, still trying to think.

"Do you know?" He asked. His voice was a deep, commanding bass. It was the very essence of what a Nord voice should be. 

"Your name is Ulfric Stormcloak. Apparently you're the Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the Stormcloak rebellion." She answered truthfully. He stared at her a moment before blinking, as if he were waiting for more.

"I'm in no mood to be lied to." He warned, his brow creased in an intimidating frown.

"I'm not lying." Vylie said, responding quickly.

"Who are you?" He asked. Vylie made a half hearted resigned hand gesture before she let out a quick sigh in frustration and responded.

"My name is Vylie Bluethorn. I'm a...collector, of sorts. I found you on the side of the road and thought it'd be best to not leave you there." She continued. 'Maybe I should've.' She thought spitefully. He frowned and shifted on the bed, slowly bringing his legs over the edge. "You must be hungry." She said, arms crossed over her chest. 

"Aye." He agreed.

"Wilhelm!" She yelled. Ulfric glowered at her disapprovingly for the volume of her voice. The man in question shuffled into the room. It didn't take him long to notice that Ulfric was awake.

"My lord!" Wilhelm said reverently. His posture changed, his hands clasped in front of him, shoulders hunched, humble looking. "Did you need anything?" 

"He hasn't eaten in three days. Get him some food." Vylie ordered from behind him. Wilhelm shot her a look before he nodded to Ulfric and went to throw together whatever he could for the jarl. Ulfric stretched, waking his muscles from their long sleep. He yawned, looking at Vylie once more. "What do you want me to do? You can't do your job until your memory recovers." She asked.

"If what you say is true and you return me in this condition, they may very well throw you in a cell without a second thought." Vylie nodded, lips pursed. He read her mind. Everyone seemed to be on edge with the war in full swing and returning the leader of the rebelling side of the war in an amnesiac state certainly wouldn't look good by any means. But then, neither would harboring him. 

"I can't just leave you, either way. But I don't know if I can have you with me. It took Wilhelm here" she nodded to the main room "about ten seconds to figure out who you are. If someone else recognizes you it could possibly mean death for one or both of us. An ambitious archer would only need two arrows and recognition of your face to kill both of us, end the war, and become a hero to a lot of people." She said. She gnawed on her lip, her brow impossibly furrowed in thought. Her line of thought was cut off by Wilhelm bringing in a plate packed tightly with various foods. 

The aroma of freshly smoked salmon, baked bread with butter, potatoes, a fried chicken egg, a wedge of bright yellow goat cheese, and a sticky sweet roll assaulted her nose and her mouth watered. Wilhelm set a bottle of ale down on the table and bowed slightly in respect to Ulfric before he turned to leave. Ulfric granted a thank you to him, immediately digging into his meal. He ate with gusto. Poor man really was hungry.

"Don't _I_ get anything?" She asked. Wilhelm kept walking, ignoring her completely. She sighed, and all but stomped into the other room, and while Wilhelm's back was turned, grabbed a loaf of bread, and a wedge of cheese from the nearest table before she scurried back to the room. Vylie and Ulfric ate quietly, while she tried to think of a way to get the two of them to Riften at the very least.

Could she disguise him? That would probably be her best bet at the moment, but where was she going to get a new set of clothes? Would he even be alright with something as drastic as shaving his beard, or cutting his hair? Or dying it? What would she even dye it with? She knew she didn't carry anything with her that would work. Although, maybe she ought to start. The only ingredient she could think of that may be accessible immediately were carrots. It'd give his hair an orange tint and may be just enough to pass him off as someone else. Maybe. She finished half the loaf of bread and the entire cheese wedge before she decided to pack the other half in her satchel.

"Would you be alright with dying your hair?" He frowned, putting a pause to his meal to look her in the eye. "It'd be easier to travel with you if you were disguised in some way. He resumed chewing his bite before he spoke.

"I will if I have to." With that, he resumed eating. She nodded, eating the rest of her makeshift meal with haste before she reached for the knife on the table. 

"What about a haircut? Or a shave?" She asked, waving the knife around carelessly. Without looking up at her, Ulfric nodded. That was helpful, at least. She leaned back, neck craned so she could stare at the ceiling. Slowly, a plan started to formulate in her head. If they waited until dusk, they could travel on her horse and arrive in Riften at the cover of nightfall. A word to the guards and they'd be able to head straight to the cistern with no one having a single clue. A smile curved her lips despite the situation. Excellent. From there, the biggest snag in her plan was the thoughts her fellows in crime were going to have about this. The situation would undoubtedly cause a bit of a stir. Unless Ulfric was brought in as a potential recruit. 

Her smile widened until another thought came to mind and her smile vanished altogether.

"Ulfric. How do you feel about thieves?" There was a pause. Vylie continued to stare at the ceiling for a moment before she looked back at him. He had just finished with his meal and was setting the plate aside.

"What about them?" He asked, eyeing her expectantly.

"I...may know a way for you to stay hidden until your memories come back to you. The only catch is, it involves living with an outfit of trained thieves until that day comes. Obviously that can't be done if you have a problem with them." There was yet another pause. Ulfric's face changed ever so slightly. Thinking. Contemplating. Truly absorbing what she said before he answered.

"Given the situation, I don't have much choice." Vylie nodded once in understanding, a small sigh escaping her lips.

It was a long wait until the sun began to set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my readers and anyone who happened by my work and decided to give it a look. :) I endeavor to continue writing entertaining works for you guys and can never thank you enough for the views, kudos, comments, and love my work has gotten. It means so so much to me. 
> 
> Many many apologies for the wait on this chapter. It's short and it took a long time. Shame on me. :(  
> I rewrote this a couple times and life got in the way for a while the last few months.  
> I hope I'm doing Ulfric's character some justice here. The most intimidating part about all of this is him and whether or not I'm writing him in character or believably at all, even if he's in an amnesiac state. I still don't have a beta reader for this, which I really need, so I don't have anyone else to bounce this off of for good measure.  
> I proofread the best I could, however, and tweaked, and researched whenever I thought I should, and rewrote what I thought really didn't fit this chapter or his personality. Please comment anything you think I should keep in mind for future chapters or anything I should rewrite if there's anything I missed or need to work on.

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank to SKM for this lovely prompt. I got hit in the head with inspiration for this and I hope I can do this justice.  
> Please forgive my naming of this fic, as I am usually awful with naming and I didn't want to do something too generic, but most everything I could think of sounded stupid. I hope this is okay. *twiddles thumbs*  
> It's on part eight, page seventeen of the KM if anyone else wanted a crack at it. I just figured I might as well have a swing. I already have the next few chapters or so planned out so all is good.  
> I'm slowly working on my other projects. Unfortunately a lot has been going on in my life at the moment and I haven't had much time to write, nor much motivation for it lately. I'm just glad I snapped out of it enough to write this.  
> Vylie is a brand new Dragonborn I made specifically for this prompt and I kind of like her. I hope everyone else will too.


End file.
